


Andromedian Tomboy

by RunningFox



Category: The X-Files
Genre: ... and then some, M/M, Mulder in heels, Trans Mulder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 02:03:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11864346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunningFox/pseuds/RunningFox
Summary: Walter Skinner meets a woman who's both stranger and friend.  Together, they share the night.





	Andromedian Tomboy

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I've ever written smut. This story came to me as an anonymous request on my tumblr page for a smutty Mulder-slash fic where Mulder wore women's clothing. The line between transexual and cross-dresser is a bit blurred in this story so it's really up for the reader to decide. This story was very lightly beta'd.

> Skinner is alone tonight. Walter is alone.
> 
> He's sitting at an isolated barstool in a place called "Girl & Goat", nursing a scotch and soda. His thick fingers trace the rim of the glass as his dark eyes scan the crowd. He's made eye contact with a few of the folks in the place, the lads and the ladies, but none have made him interested enough to get up and make conversation. A few have tried with him, thin blokes and square shouldered girls, but he's made it clear to them he'd rather be left to drink in peace. They're all a little confused but they leave without a fuss: why else would he be here? No one comes to the Girl & Goat just so they can drink and leave alone.
> 
> Walter doesn't want to leave alone but he usually does. He just... it just hasn't worked out from him.
> 
> Tonight will be different though although he doesn't know that yet. In his mind, he's already planning what he'll make for dinner when he gets home. Maybe he'll just microwave something and eat it over the sink until he goes to bed. Oh, must not forget, he'll wash the dish first and dry it for tomorrow. He hates dirty dishes left over night. Walter looks down at his Omega watch and realizes he better just finish his drink and do just that. It's when he brings it up to his mouth, tipping back the tumbler to bring back the strong liquid, that he sees a woman enter the bar. And his plans change.
> 
> They don't change immediately. At first, his head is just spinning and his heart is pounding, he can feel his temple throbbing as the blood rushes. He even manages to spill some of the scotch onto his shirt. That's enough to jolt him from his thoughts and he grabs a napkin with a gruff swear and begins to dab at his dress shirt. He's trying to dry it and he coughs a little as his throat burns from the sudden influx of scotch, "Goddammit..."
> 
> Walter looks up to see if he can spot the woman again. She's easy to notice even though her back is to him. His eyes linger on her back and the way her black dress accents the straight line of it and it's long sleeves emphasize the same in her toned arms. It's a modest dress and not too overdone for the location. It has a high neckline that pulls wide at the shoulders to reveal her soft-looking skin. Her long dark hair curls around them in tendrils that swing loose from the half-ponytail she's tied it in. Round bangs cover her forehead and Walter watches as she reaches up to brush one of the locks that frame her face behind her ear. Her fingers are long but thin and graceful. She doesn't have a drink yet and Walter knows if he waits too long, someone else will buy her one.
> 
> Someone comes into the bar and Walter is distracted by the door. When he sets his eyes on it, he's thinking maybe that's exactly where he should be headed. Finish his drink, go home, eat dinner and go to sleep should be his course of action. Not whatever harebrained scheme he has cooked up in the deepest recesses of his mind. He tells himself not to, he knows if he does he'll be lost, but Walter swings his eyes back over to the woman. She crosses her legs in a manner that is so undoubtedly womanly and gently bounces one black-heeled foot, as if she's waiting for a train. The heels make her ankles look unbelievably sexy and Walter's eyes trail up the smooth, elegantly shaped calves until the perfection of her legs disappears under the fabric of her dress. It's her legs that break Walter.
> 
> He needs liquid courage and he finishes his scotch in a quick swallow before standing up. A million different thoughts and scenarios run through his head as he brings each strong leg closer and closer to her. The beginning of something beautiful or maybe the end. It's hard to know right now but he's feeling like he has no choice but to try. It's kismet, isn't it? Or fate. Or just some amazing fucking coincidence.
> 
> Walter's behind her before she's realized she's being stalked so innocently. His wide palm reaches out to rest carefully on her side and in a smooth motion, he leans in close--so close he can feel her hair tickle his nose--and says in a rough tone that gives away his excitement, "Let me buy you a drink."
> 
> The woman turns and her green eyes are shocked, like he's startled her. The way she gasps makes Walter want her even more, "Oh, Sir, I..."
> 
> "Let me buy you a drink," Walter repeats, cutting off whatever she was going to say. The hollow of her throat, just peaking over the neckline of her dress, shows how shallow her breathing is. She looks away and Walter sees her fingers pulling nervously at the bottom hem of her dress, bunching the fabric over her crossed legs. Even in the dim light, Walter can see she's flushed although her face seems entirely passive. She's having a small moment of panic, he knows, but Walter expected that to happen and he's okay with waiting, letting her work through it. He's panicking too but it's too late to back down. Walter's not normally so forward but he keeps his hand on her side, his fingers lightly flex against her.
> 
> Is it an eternity or is it a second? She finally looks back at him and Walter's eyes don't waver from hers. Her makeup is so light and natural, one would almost think it wasn't there but Walter knows it is. Her skin is completely unblemished, her eyes are darkened and her lips are a natural pink but they shimmer just a bit more in the light than normal. They look so tempting and full, Walter's not sure if he wants to kiss them or shove his cock between them.
> 
> "I..." she starts again and drops her eyes for just a moment, as if she's embarrassed, as if Walter hasn't offered, "I'd like that. Thank you."
> 
> It's all he needs to hear and Walter gives a small smile. With his other hand, he reaches up to stroke her fine cheekbone with the back of his finger. She takes in a surprised breath and looks at him again.
> 
> "I'm Walter," he tells her and something passes between them, "Tell me your name."
> 
> Her eyes close again and it's a struggle for her to say, Walter can see, but he just strokes her cheek again and when she finally opens her eyes again, they're moist as if she's holding back unshed tears. Walter's not sure which grows more, his heart or his dick. She finally says, "It's Marty."
> 
> "Marty," Walter gives a half-smile, "That doesn't seem like the name of a beautiful woman."
> 
> "Well," Marty takes in a shaky breath but she's growing stronger, Walter notes, and she actually manages a small laugh, "I was always a bit of a tomboy."
> 
> "I could believe it," her ease helps Walter's ease and he asks her what she'd like to drink. She tells him she'd like a dirty martini--strong on the vodka. Walt's not sure what he's going to have yet but knows it'll be strong too. At the bar, Walter orders and his fingers drum on the polished wood top. He tries his best not to look over his shoulder, to check if she's still there. He doesn't know if it would be better or worse if she was gone when he turned around.
> 
> What would he do if she was gone? He'd never talk about Marty again. He'd never even think about her--if he could help it. Life would go on as normal. Normal. Expense reports, debriefings, single dinners over the sink, lonely drinks at the Girl & Goat and sleep. Normal.
> 
> Marty's not gone when he returns. She's been watching him and Walter realizes she's been probably having the same thoughts he has. Walter's glad she's not gone and by the way she gives him that small smile, he thinks she's glad too.
> 
> "Thank you," she says, taking the drink. Her fingers with their short, clean nails touch the rim of the wide glass and her eyes don't stop watching him as Walter sits across from her. He hasn't nothing but the urge to stay close, like he was before, and to touch her. He wants to do more than just touch her, he wants to consume her, eat her right up. They don't say anything for a long while, just sipping their drinks. There's so much Walter wants to say and he's sure there's a ton Marty wants to say to him but it just doesn't feel like the right time and they both know that.
> 
> Finally, Walter can't take it anymore and he's blunt, "I've never see you here before."
> 
> Marty shakes her head, bringing her glass away from her lips. There's a foggy smudge where her pale lipstick has touched it, "I don't go out much."
> 
> This comment makes them both laugh and Marty continues, nervously running a finger along her rim, "I just... It's not easy, coming out like this. Putting myself out there. I normally don't but sometimes..."
> 
> "You're lonely?" Marty hesitates before she nods and Walter can see she's grateful he understands. Walter rolls the ice around in his drink, "I get lonely too. Would it be alright if I confessed something to you, Marty?"
> 
> Her eyes widen for just a moment and it only manages to make her look more girlish. Walter doesn't confess, he doesn't show vulnerability but tonight seems like the perfect time to start.
> 
> "Of course," she breathes after a pause that wasn't meant to be so long, "Anything."
> 
> "I'm here a lot," Walter tells her, forcing himself to maintain eye contact. He wants to look down into his tumbler and avoid her gaze, "I come here a lot and I leave here alone. I leave here alone because no one seems right for me. No one seems like someone I'd want to walk out with and I won't go home with someone I only half-want or just because I'm lonely. I want it to be right."
> 
> Does Walter see her fingers tighten on the stem of her glass? They suddenly drop into her lap again and Walter just knows she's playing with her hem again as he talks. He's already started and he can't bring himself to stop now.
> 
> "I don't know what brought you in here tonight... Marty. I don't know if it was meant to be or if it was just a strange series of events. I don't know but I know that the moment I saw you come in here. I think... I think my life changed."
> 
> His words send the air rushing out her and Walter can see how her face flushes, her eyes are frozen on him and her chest carefully heaves with air that seems to struggle to come back to her. Walter isn't fazed by the reaction--he's feeling the same way, he's just better at hiding it. He knows that now's the moment.
> 
> "I want to take your home with me, Marty, and I want to spend the night making love to you. Will you let me do that? Will you let me take you home, let me touch you?"
> 
> Marty's mouth is agape and she seems to have been completely struck dumb. Walter wants her and he believes that Marty wants him too. The question is whether or not Marty will let him have her, whether or not she can open herself up that way to him. That's what makes Walter doubt; he might be leaving here alone no matter what. He can't take his eyes from her.
> 
> There's a fluttering of eyelids and she comes back from where ever she was. Walter's not sure what she's going to say but she manages a small nod, so small that Walter barely sees it, "Y-yes, yes, I would, Walter."
> 
> "Good," is all Walter can say. He clears his throat and swallows down whatever's left of his drink. He needs to get control of this situation, he needs to get control of himself and instinctively he falls back into Assistant Director mode. He stands and squares his shoulders, "Finish your drink, I just need to use the restroom and then... we can go."
> 
> His dick is so hard, he couldn't piss if he had to. He just needs to collect himself, he needs a moment. Walter is grateful the Girl & Goat is so dark so maybe Marty, and the others, can't see the way it tents the front of his slacks. When he's in the bathroom, he's so glad it's empty. Walter lets out a a breath and goes immediately to the sink to carefully splash his face with a little cool water. He removes his glasses first and tucks them into the pocket of his dress shirt. The water's not enough to cool him down and Walter takes a few more deep breaths. He looks up at himself in the mirror and mutters a simple, "Jesus Christ..."
> 
> He's just about to ask his mirrored twin what the fuck he thinks he's doing when the door to the bathroom opens and Walter catches himself, attempting to look neutral. The guy who's entered hardly looks his way and goes to relieve himself in the urinal, then to the sink to wash his hands. That's when he catches Walter's eye.
> 
> "You okay, man?" the guy asks, shaking his wet hands off.
> 
> "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Walter responds. Obviously he's not hiding his feelings as well as he thought.
> 
> The guy nods and says, "Well, have a good night, man," and leaves Walter alone in the restroom. Walter takes this opportunity to go quickly to the door and lock it. Anyone outside can just wait. He's taking this room for his own for just a short period. He can't wait too long. Marty's waiting for him.
> 
> Marty. Marty, Marty, Marty. It's surreal.
> 
> Walter makes his way back to the mirror and when he looks into it, he finally sees what the other man saw. He's looking back at himself but it's a version of himself that's unfamiliar--maybe once he knew it but it's been gone since his youth. He looks pale and a little wild-eyed. The guy probably thought he was high off his ass, Walter thinks and it makes him chuckle. He takes in five long, deep breaths.
> 
> Walter knows he has to leave this bathroom. He can't leave her waiting, doubting herself. There's nothing to doubt, especially not tonight.
> 
> When Walter leaves the restroom, she's still waiting for him but now she's not alone. A broad looking man stands at Marty's table and Walter knows what he's asking her. He wants to buy her a drink, wants to sit and chat. If the man's got any class, he hasn't asked her for what he really wants; to take Marty home and rip off her dress. He sees Marty shake her pretty head at him but the man seems unaggressive but determined.
> 
> "Excuse me," Walter cuts in, taking Marty's jacket off of the back of her chair. The man gets the picture, especially when Marty smiles at Walter, and walks off, accepting his silent defeat. It makes Walter's chest swell with... possession. She's his, at least tonight. Walter helps the coat over her shoulders--it's a big, black trench coat, long enough to keep out the late season wind and chills. It smells the way she's always smelled. It's hers, it's comfortable, it's lived in.
> 
> The chill cools Walter down, which is greatly needed, as they step outside. He sees Marty tighten her jacket and Walter instinctively steps closer to her, a big hand on her back to guide her towards his car. When she walks, her bare legs occasionally peak out through the opening in the trench, a black heel on the base and it's so erotic it threatens to make Walter crack right outside the bar.
> 
> "Do you get a lot of attention? When you go out?" Walter asks her, referring to the man from the bar.
> 
> "No," she says but Walter knows it's a lie. She admits after a few steps, "I... sometimes they buy me drinks."
> 
> "I bet they do," comes the response. There's jealousy in his voice and Walter knows it's foolish but he can't help feel it flair, "You're beautiful. Plenty of men would do anything to go home with you."
> 
> Marty looks at him, a look so innocent on her face, her cheeks rosy with the cold, green eyes shiny. There's explanation in her tone although Walter knows she doesn't owe him anything, "I don't let them take me home."
> 
> "Why not?"
> 
> It feels so good, the way Marty leans into him as they head across the street, "I want it to be right."
> 
> Walter's hand slid down the thick fabric of her coat and cupped her perfect, firm ass. The gesture was light but crude nonetheless and Walter felt guilty at cheapening her affection words but he couldn't control himself. Something similar to love surged through him when she said that but it was drowned out by lust and need. Marty didn't seem to mind and Walter saw her tongue come out to wet her lips in surprise or... anticipation. Seeing it slide across her full lips was almost enough to make Walter pull her into a suffocating kiss right there but he maintained his self control. Home. He had to get her home.
> 
> When they got to Walter's car, he unlocked the doors and held the door open for Marty. She looked at him with her soft eyes and smiled as she slid into the passenger's seat, "I knew you'd be a gentleman."
> 
> Yeah, a gentleman. Until he burst open and revealed the animal that was just lurking beneath the surface. Marty was making it wild and inside Walter a tiger paced it's cage, waiting for it's chance to pounce and devour.
> 
> The drive to Viva Towers wasn't short. Walter liked the Girl & Goat for it's atmosphere and it's distance from his hope. It decreased, he thought, the chances of running into anybody who may know him. The drive was quiet, neither him nor Marty spoke much except for small questions.
> 
> "Are you cold? Do you want me to turn the heat on?"
> 
> "Oh, no, I'm okay. I think if you turned the heat on, I'd spontaneous combust right now..."
> 
> "I know the feeling."
> 
> The radio was on when Walter had turned the car on and it filled the silence with the barely audible sounds of classic and folk rock. It helped Walter keeps his mind focused, not to let his desire and fantasies run away with him. It'd been an old trick in college: when things go too hot, when the party threatened to end early, he'd quote his favorite rock albums in his head. Or his favorite football plays. It always seemed to dim the fires just enough.
> 
> As Walter sang along in his head to whatever was playing on the radio, something by Donovon, he spied Marty shift slightly in her seat. As the car rolled to a stop at the light, Walter saw her bare knee poke through the billowed trench coat and he couldn't help himself. Leaning over in a casual gesture, his eyes shifting between her and the red stoplight, Walter brushed aside the flaps of her coat and firmly took hold of her knee, wasting no time in sliding up her skin. The red light would be green soon, he knew, but he watched to see his hand slip under her black dress. Marty gasps at the sudden invasion but Walter doesn't touch her, he just lets his fingers linger on the inner part of her thigh, stroking the skin there.
> 
> She feels amazing. Her skin is soft, hot and smooth. Around his wrist, the fabric of her dress is bunched and Walter's resisting the urge to pull it up and expose her. Her hand goes to his, as if to stop him, but she doesn't. Her slender fingers curl around his and, to what is undoubtedly both of their surprises, she opens her legs a little wider so he can comfortably pet the flesh. The red light turns and Walter puts the car in motion but he can't bring himself to remove his hand. Her hand on his tells him she doesn't want him to.
> 
> It's at Viva Towers that he finally lets her go. He pulls the car into the parking garage. The floodlights illuminate her and Walter watches her distinguished profile as he turns off the car. It's the only thing about her that's un-womanly tonight but he still thinks she's so goddamn beautiful. He can hardly stand it. She turns her head to look at him then and they share a long look that tells the other exactly what they want to know.
> 
> _Are you sure?_
> 
> _Yes. Are you?_
> 
> _Yes._
> 
> If there was a moment to change their minds, it passes as Walter gets his big body out of the car. She's opening hers but Walter's there in just a second to help her out. He takes her hand, like he's helping her down from a carriage, and her heel snakes out to land firmly on the pavement beneath them. Marty's so graceful when she stands, it takes Walter's breath away.
> 
> He expects her to let go of his hand but she doesn't, she grips it tighter as they start for the elevator. Her fingers lace with his and they walk hand and hand onto the elevator that takes them to Walter's lobby. When the doors open, Marty's got her head down, trying to hide her face. It's so late, the place is practically empty save for the security guard at the desk. He glances up as they leave the elevator but once he sees Walter, he greets him with a nod and, "Mr. Skinner," then turns back to his magazine and radio. He's paid enough to know to mind his own business when it comes to the residents.
> 
> As the pair reach the elevators, Marty presses her face gently into Walter's shoulder as the security guard calls to them, "I've unlocked elevator number 3 for you, Mr. Skinner."
> 
> Walter nods and stabs at the button. The thing can't come fast enough.
> 
> When the car comes, he lets Marty step in first and he follows. The door closes and Walter presses for the seventeenth floor. Each ding is a blessing and curse. It seems so slow. Ding... ding... ding.... and yet with each one he gets closer and closer to what he wants.
> 
> Standing beside him, her shoulder touching his, Walter jumps and sucks in a breath at the sudden pressure below his belt. Hardly moving, Marty's reached over and is stroking his stiff cock through his slacks. Her hand grips him, rubbing and squeezing him. Walter's chest rises and falls with the force of his pants and he lets out a sound that verges on a growl--Marty's letting the tiger loose. Just like in the car, she teases him as he did her and, just like in the car, his hand comes to cover hers only this time he's stopping her. There's a moment of doubt on her face, like she's done something wrong.
> 
> "If I come on this elevator," he says in a low voice, "I'll never forgive myself."
> 
> Marty smiles then and her fingers flex on his groin, trapped under his hand. Walter's not even sure it's intentional. She regards him with her green eyes, which have gone dark and murky, "I'd never forgive you either."
> 
> She removes her hand then but she steps in a little closer. It's agony. Sweet, wonderful agony and Walter can't help but put his hand on her backside again, squeezing gently. This motion pulls from her a sound that's almost a giggle, if Walter didn't know any better. He likes it.
> 
> Ding... ding... ding...
> 
> When the doors open, Walter almost pushes her out of the elevator. She doesn't object and keeps his pace as they head down the hall and to his apartment door. Her heels give off a muted sound on the carpet as she walks beside him. The key's in the lock and the door is open. When they're inside, Walter locks it firmly behind them. It's so resounding, the way the lock clicks shut with a turn of his key, they both notice it. It's so much more than a lock door, it's unabashed privacy. They've locked out the world.
> 
> Walter wants to tackle her to the floor and rip off her clothes but he doesn't. He turns on a small table side lamp by his door. When he turns, Marty's back is to him and she's shrugging off her big trench coat, exposing to him once again the smooth line of her back, the stunning curve of her ass and her shapely calves--the dress is perfect, it hugs her in all the right places. Walter's removing his own jacket, which is tossed aside with a careless motion, followed by his glasses still tucked safely in his shirt pocket. They're dropped on the table.
> 
> Marty's turning towards him and can hardly get out a surprised, "Oh--" before Walter's on her. He crushes his lips to hers in a brutal kiss. His arms band around her body, pulling her to him, pressing her to his chest and enclosing her in his arms. Her own arms are pinned between them but she manages to grip his biceps in an attempt to balance herself. Walter loves how she opens to him right away and there's no clash, his tongue just slides into her mouth, rolling around hers. He wants to taste her, to drink her up.
> 
> It's the last thing he wants to do but Walter breaks from her to catch his breath. As he pulls away, he feels her teeth gently tug his lip. Walter grinds himself into her, hands falling to her ass to pull her as close as possible. He brushes her nose with his before claiming her mouth again, her face is smooth and her lips are soft that he knows the rough way in which he kisses her must hurt but she doesn't seem to mind. The way she rubs his chest and arms, the way her fingers curl in the fabric of his shirt and the way she moans into his mouth, it urges him on. Walter drops his head to her neck and she tips her head back to let him work his magic there, nipping at her skin and leaving a soft trail of kisses. To Walter's surprise, Marty stopped him to nuzzle herself into his throat.
> 
> "Oh, God, Walter," Marty breathed, "Oh, God... you smell so good, you feel so good."
> 
> "Everything about you is so fucking good," with that, Walter bent his knees just enough to scoop her with the strength of his forearm and, in a swift motion, spun to get her on the couch. He couldn't get her upstairs, to the bed although that had been his plan. Make love to her all night long? Walter would be lucky if he could last ten more minutes. His hands and lips ravished her, biting and kissing everything he could, running his hands up her sides and down her legs. Her hands are on him too and she's working her shaking fingers on his buttons, getting them undone. When she's finished, he feels her yank the cloth from his pants as she tries to free it, it's difficult from her position pinned between the couch and him but she manages it. She gets her hands under his tank top to feel his chest, running her fingers through the chest hair.
> 
> "Walter, wait," she moans, shifting her head to escape his kisses, "Let me take this off. I want to see you, please."
> 
> It kills him but he does as she asked and leaning back on his knees, Marty helps him pull the undershirt off and tosses it aside. Before he can cover her again, her hand rests on his chest, holding him back. She's stroking his chest, playing with his chest hair and brushing over his nipples. She's so rosy in the cheeks, her lips already swollen and her eyes dark and sparkling. Marty shakes her head and pants, "Oh, God, Walter... you're incredible."
> 
> No one's ever admired his body so much. She looks like she's in heaven, both glorified and overwhelmed all at once. It makes Walter feel amazing, it makes him feel manly. The wide barrel of his chest huffs and his muscled stomach clenches as her hands run down to his belt buckle. She's working it as Walter reaches out to brush back her bangs--they're bodies are sheen with sweat and her hair is sticking to her. As she gets the buckle undone and is pulling the leather from the loops, his fingers stroke her face, running his thumb across her cheeks and her lips. Walter pushes his thumb into her mouth and the way she sucks it in makes his cock twitch. Her tongue plays with the digit as she pops the button to his slacks. She bring down the zipper and Walter knows she can feel the heat coming off him, off of his dick which is barely covered by the briefs. Marty helps his pants down his hips and Walter removes his thumb as she comes closer. Her eyes look up at him as she brings out her tongue to lick him through the white underwear. It's so sexy that it makes Walter's head spin.
> 
> Marty rubs him too but after a moment, it's clear even she can't wait anymore and breaking her eyes from his, she watches herself reach into his briefs. The touch of her hand on him is incredible and he groans as she takes his thick cock, pulling it and exposing it to the cool air. It's swollen and dark. Marty gasps likes she's been punched and she's biting her lips again. Walter can see her mind turning--is she nervous or excited? He decides she's both. There's a large bead of precum at the head and Marty strokes him once, slowly, in a firm up-and-down motion. It's enough to start the flow and it's oozing out, down his shaft and onto her fingers. It helps slick him as she strokes, her other hand pulls down his briefs and reveals his swollen balls. She's so close, Walter can feel her breath on him.
> 
> Cupping her face, Walter urges gently, bringing her mouth closer. He whispers, "Come on, baby..."
> 
> Marty's eyes flutter closed and she laps once at the dripping head of Walter's cock. It makes him hiss in encouragement and then he feels the burning warmth of her mouth wrap around the head, suckling. Walter can't hold back a loud moan as she tongues the slit. Her lips stretch over him and Walter loves to see it.
> 
> "Your lips are so sexy," Walter hisses as he pushes further into her willing mouth, "That's right, ooooh, yes. Oh, God. I love this, I love watching you suck my cock. Your mouth is so goddamn..."
> 
> Walter can't even finish as she moans around him, vibrating straight up his shaft. Perfect. He was going to say her mouth is perfect, like it was made to suck men off--suck him off. He wants to know how many before him, how many men she's had in her mouth, how many she's brought to such incredible heights, how many have cum in her mouth and on her face. The thoughts heat him with jealousy but it only fuels his arousal. He starts a rhythm, fucking her mouth as deeply as she can take him. Walter's cock isn't exceptionally long but it's fat and wide and sometimes she lets out a little sound when it's too much. He doesn't want to hurt her but it only makes him want to push in more.
> 
> Marty's knees are pressed together and the hand that doesn't steady herself on Walter's hip is again holding onto the bottom hem of her dress. The knuckles roll as Marty worries the fabric, her hips give a little thrust and Walter realizes she's trying to restrain herself. She doesn't want to touch herself although she longs for it. Marty's aching just like him. She whimpers when he removes his cock. Walter sucks in a breath as he watches the string of precum webs between the tip of his cock and her lips. When it breaks, Marty licks off what she can and wipes it from her chin, her eyes trained on Walter all the while.
> 
> No one, Walter thinks, should be this sensual. And every motion she makes is so genuine, almost innocent, like she doesn't even realize how wild she'd make any man.
> 
> It'd be wrong, he realizes, to take her here. To shove her against his couch cushions, open her legs and fuck her without regard. She'd love it, no doubt, and she'd even thank him for it when it was over. But Walter would know it was wrong.
> 
> He leans in to kiss her again and she tilts her head to deepen the kiss, her hand stroking his chest. Walter ends it but carefully takes hold of her arms, "Come on," he speaks low, "I want to take you upstairs to the bedroom."
> 
> She smiles then. She actually smiles with eyes so bright it makes Walter's heart swell. Did she think she wasn't allowed there? Did she think he'd think she would soil his bed? It's amazing how little she realizes how fucking lucky Walter feels. With his help, she stands on shaking legs, giving him one last kiss before she aids him in getting back up his pants and tucking his slick, stiff member back into them as best he can.
> 
> How they get up the stairs without collapsing in the hallway into a rutting mess is anyones guess. The tension in their bodies, the desire, radiates off them and feeds into the other. They're holding hands as they make their way to the bedroom. Her left hand is in his right one and she leans into him, her face buried into the back of his shoulder, as if he's supporting her. Her other hand strokes his strong arm.
> 
> Inside the bedroom, Walter flicks on another bedside lamp before laying Marty down on the white comforter. Walter's got a big bed and Marty's lean frame sinks into it as she stretches herself. Walter doesn't join her, instead he takes the opportunity to linger as he kicks off his shoes and socks. His pants and briefs fall away next and he stands before her entirely nude. Marty's still dressed, even down to her heels and Walter can't get enough. He wants to see her body but there's something about her here, dressed and wanton, that he likes too. Her thighs rub together and her hands travel up her own body as she watches him watch her. It's like she can't even help herself so she goes to grip the sides of her pillow, ceasing her actions. She's displayed for him now, her black-clad body a stark contrast against the snow white blanket, and Walter's reminded of the girl in "Kong Kong" or Andromeda tied to the rock. She's his sensual sacrifice and he's the creature come to devour her.
> 
> Walter doesn't realize it but he's waited too long and she begs, "Walter, please..."
> 
> The words make his cock twitch and he releases a growl from his chest. His breathing is ragged and his voice is all gravel as he asks, "I don't know, I just don't know. I could touch you a thousand different ways. Tell me what you want,"
> 
> "I want you," she replies, breathless, "I want you inside of me."
> 
> Walter strokes himself, "How do you want it? Tell me."
> 
> Her next words are a struggle, he can see it in her face. Walter silently tells her there's no more room for doubt, for worry, for fear. They're here and there's no room for anything else.
> 
> "I..." her voice trails and she closes her eyes. When she opens them, she's stronger, "Give it to me rough. I want you to fuck me like a man does."
> 
> If Marty threatened to loose the tiger before, she's done it now. There's nothing hold him back now and he advances on her, the bed dips with his weight and before he can stop the words, he demands to know,
> 
> "Is your pussy wet for me?"
> 
> They shock him as much as they do her. The question pulls from her a sound that's undefinable and she covers her mouth to try to stop it. From around her fingers, hardly able to breathe, she whines and Walter pulls her hand away.
> 
> "Yes, God, yes, I--" but Walter's on her, covering her with his body and claiming her mouth again. He smothers her with his need, his desire and he threatens to pull the life right out of her with his kisses. Frenzied hands, thick and calloused, move up her legs and under her dress, just like he's imagined since he saw her. They hook onto the undies on her hips and Walter pulls back just to watch his hands bring them down her legs.
> 
> "Oh, Jesus," he groans, overcome by the image of her panties sliding down from under her dress, "Oh, Jesus fucking Christ..."
> 
> The sight is incredible and Walter doesn't know how he manages not to explode right there, covering her legs and her panties in his cum. The material is lacy but sturdy and white and they're wet, where she's creamed herself in anticipation of this. Of him. Walter doesn't take them off, he lets them stay wrapped around her knees--he wants to see them. Just like her dress and her heels, they're the erotic accents of the most beautiful woman he's about to have.
> 
> There's only a small delay as Walter collects a bottle from the nightstand and greases up his fingers, his cock. She's so easy to flip and with a grip on her hips, he gets her onto her stomach in a quick motion. Her hair falls forward over her shoulders as he does and he sees her press herself into the mattress, letting out a small moan. She's so grateful for the little bit of pressure the new position affords her. She lifts her hips to him and Walter pushes up her dress to finally look at her bare skin. He's admiring her when she reaches back, face buried in the pillow, and makes as if she wants to pull back down the fabric, to hide herself from him. She wants it but there's still shyness there.
> 
> "Stop," he orders and she does. The bottle is used again to make her slick and he reapplies it to his fingers. A blunt finger runs down the cleft and pushes itself into her warmth and she moans, gravitating her hips lightly at the feel. Walter gets in to the knuckle, slowly, slowly, before he pulls out with the same torturous speed and adds another. She lets out a little "oh" sound when as he uses them. He knows he's added the second one a little too quick so he's careful to prepare her this time. He runs them in and out of her slick heat, scissoring them to work her tightness. When she's purring and rocking back against her pleasurable invaders, he knows she's ready. Her hands clench and unclench the blankets as he moves in and out and there's a beautiful glisten of sweat on her forehead, her face is flushed. Walter needs to be inside of her but he's got her in a delicious place and he's not ready to give that up yet.
> 
> Sliding both thick digits in as deep as he can, he curls them upwards and strokes her. She hums in pleasure and then... his fingers find what he's looking for and she lets out a sudden cry, her body shudders. She almost seems to want to jump away from him, to pull away from a sensation that's too much but he's holding her. Walter's got her and he's not going to let her go. He rubs her spot and she can't catch her breath, she's sobbing almost as she pleads,
> 
> "Walter, I-- Walter!"
> 
> Walter doesn't respond, he's too focused on his task. He works her spot until she's crying into the pillow and bucking feverishly. She attempts to alternate between rubbing herself on the mattress and pushing his fingers in deeper. This is exactly how Walter wants her; desperate and moaning. He's wondering if he should give her release with his fingers. She wants it so bad and he's in a wonderful place to watch her lose control. Or, he thinks, he could watch her do that on his cock. The thought's too much and he gives her one more stroke before removing his fingers from her hole. Marty sinks a little to the bed, as if she's lost some energy. She doesn't protest when he leaves her because she knows what's coming next and they've both wanted it for so long. Gripping her hips with his big hands, Walter lifts her back up, holding her tightly.
> 
> He takes in one last good look at her. The black dress hiked up, the panties around her knees, the heels on legs that shiver, the way her opening glistens... she's wet for him and it makes Walter crazy. He mounts her, letting her hole kiss the tip of his dick, before he slides into her in one push. It's both brutal and loving and Marty can't help but pull the pillow to her mouth and let out a little scream into it as he does. He knows he's hurt her a little but it's a wonderful anguish and he knows she loves every second of it.
> 
> The push is slow and with every inch, he hears himself whisper, "Good girl, good girl..."
> 
> Walter doesn't stop until he feels his balls against her skin. She's so tight and he's so hard it almost fucking hurts. Walter lets his eyes close as she gets used to him filling her, stretching her. He needs a few moments himself or else he might lose it. Walter's eyes close and he lets his head fall back, sucking in a deep breath through his teeth. Marty's pulling at the pillows, panting and moaning. She tries to open her legs more but her panties trap her from going too far. Walter likes it because it keeps her thighs squeezed and tight. He makes a small jerking motion, confirming he's in as far as he can go. It makes Marty cry out. Walter stretches his body out, hands still on her hips, to lean in and kiss her neck. He only removes his hand to brush the hair away.
> 
> They feel amazing. She feels amazing. They fit so well together, like it was meant to be, like he was always meant to have her and she was always meant to give herself to him.
> 
> Marty's whispering, her eyes squeezed shut, her bangs plastered to her forehead, "I know, I know..."
> 
> Walter realizes he's been talking out loud. He's not ashamed. It's true. God, it's fucking true. He kisses the back of her neck again and sliding his hand around, he takes her chin and pulls her head back to get her lips. The kiss is drowning, knowing he's inside her, knowing she wants him as badly as he does and how absolutely perfect it feels to be together.
> 
> Marty presses herself back against him and gasps when she's free from his mouth, "Walter, please, I can't wait, please. I'll do anything, please."
> 
> He wants to hear her beg but he wants to give her everything at the same time. Anything she wants, she can have it.
> 
> "You don't have to do anything," he kisses her again in one last frantic plunge before making his back straight, "Just enjoy it."
> 
> Marty lays her cheek back on the pillow and her breath is shaky as Walter slowly pulls his cock out of her, just the tip engulfed in her. He takes hold of her hips again and slams forward, yanking her back into him as he does. He makes her scream and Walter begins to pound into her. There's no hesitation, no walls, no boundaries to stop him. His pace is furious and pulls from him guttural, animal noises he didn't think he could make. Her sounds are pleading and desperate. Marty's one hand holds the covers, keeping her grounded against his thrusts and the other grasps at the bedsheets, the pillows, the headboard, as if she doesn't know what to do with it. Walter falls forward again and his whole hand wraps around her wrist, pinning it to the bed. The angle is better because it allows him to stab at that sweet spot within her every time he thrusts. Her whimpers turns to screams and Walter begins to see tears fall from her eyes, squeezed tight.
> 
> "Does it hurt? Do you want me to stop?" he grounds out. Please, he thinks, please don't tell me to stop. It's too good. I can't, I can't.
> 
> "Don't stop," she chokes through her cries, "Don't stop."
> 
> Walter understands. They're tears of overwhelming pleasure, of the realization that she's needed this all along. He'd cry too. He understands. It doesn't take long, especially with the way his dick is hitting her, that he feels Marty tense under him. Her orgasm hits her and it rockets through Walter as well. Her screams go quiet and she just whines, "Ooooh, oooh, Walter, oooh..."
> 
> She's trying to take in air, trying not to drowned in it, as her entire body quivers beneath him. The quivers are so violent, her hole clenches so tightly around him, Walter knows he doesn't have much longer. She goes limp under him and it's only his arms that keep her up.
> 
> I'm not going to let you fall, baby, Walter thinks, I'm not going to let you fall.
> 
> His hips move wildly, desperate to see the end of this swelling tension of pleasure and yet hoping it'll never end. He wants the wave of ecstasy but he tries to stall it as long as he can. He watches her passive face, resting on the pillow, breathless and sweaty, as it rocks with the force of his thrusts and he sees her tongue come out and wet her bottom lip before taking it between her teeth. It makes him think of the couch, her mouth on him and he hits his peak. The growl, the roar that threatens to break out is stifled as he pounding becomes uneven, frantic and unpatterned. Walter feels his balls pull up and then blinding pleasure falls over him and he's coming. He's coming inside of her and he can't stop it.
> 
> His words hardly get out of him, as he pumps spurt after spurt inside of her, "Fuck, oh fuck, F-Fox..."
> 
> Then it seems like as quickly as it started, it's over and Walter's hips slow, his body weakens and he collapses on top of her back. They lay together, trying to catch their breaths, letting the ends of their tidal wave settle. He can feel his cock twitch occasionally, beginning to soften in her body. He knows he must be heavy but he can't seem to find the ability to move. His body has been turned into jelly and skin. Marty's not complaining. When he can finally manage to think, to function, Walter moves aside the hair from her face and leans in to kiss her cheeks gently, kissing the remains of her tears. That's when her eyes open for the first time. Her hand snakes up, although it's tough with his weight keeping her on the bed, and wipes at them. She gives a small, embarrassed laugh,
> 
> "I'm sorry..."
> 
> "No," Walter kisses her wet face again.
> 
> "It's so stupid. I can't believe I cried."
> 
> "It was beautiful, you're beautiful."
> 
> "You're beautiful," she whispers back and Walter kisses her swollen lips. He decides, although he could stay there for the rest of eternity, to free her from him. With a small, delicate movement, he pulls his flaccid cock from her and she lets out a little moan when he does. She's tender and sore, he doesn't doubt and she'll be even sorer tomorrow. Walter can't help but look before he rolls onto his back, one last look at something he realizes now he may never see again.
> 
> Her dress, her heels, her panties and the smearing of his seed, his cum, on her, in her.
> 
> Walter suddenly notices she's turned her head to watch him. When he looks at her, she's red faced but doesn't go to hide herself with her dress, like before. Walter drops away and onto his back and the bed, and Marty, bounces slightly when he does. She takes the opportunity to sit up and roll her panties down her legs. Walter sees her makeup is smudged and after she gets her panties off, she shimmies the dress down to form some sort of modesty. Licking her lips, Marty looks at him,
> 
> "I'm going to go clean up," comes the low statement. It's more of a question and Walter nods, reaching out to touch her knee lightly before she slides away to the edge of the bed. Marty removes her heels, for the first time that night, and as soon as they're off the girlish foot is shown to be masculine, flat and wide. She tosses the heels away from her and the bed before standing. Walter gets the chance to watch her ass in the dress once more, stroking his chest in a lazy fashion, before she closes the door to the bathroom.
> 
> Walter watches it close and then turns his eyes to the ceiling. Jesus, he's thinking, Jesus. How did the night get here? He's not unhappy, he's not complaining but... Jesus. He runs a hand over his bald scalp and lets out a breath. What's going on in the bathroom is only a guess. Is the person in there having similar thoughts? Are they planning their escape? The sweat on his body is cooling and he begrudgingly moves to pull back the blankets and slip under them. There's a wet spot in the middle but it hasn't soaked through the top comforter. As he lays back down, Walter shifts his head and gazes upon the discarded heels on the floor. He's watching them when the door opens back up.
> 
> Fox Mulder is standing there, completely nude, his lean body only covered by the folded dress in his arms, which covers his groin. Over the dress also hangs a padded bra and the long locks of hair that match the color of his own. He's washed his face of all makeup and run a comb through his hair, letting it seem more natural. He's lovely. His stance is awkward though and Walter's silent, trying to understand why. Then he realizes it's because he's unsure--he's unsure if he's welcomed back into Walter's bed and in his arms. All Walter has to do is smile at him and it's okay. He does and Mulder smiles slyly back, his head tilting.
> 
> "I think... I think I ruined my dress," he confesses.
> 
> "That's alright. We'll get you a new one."
> 
> "Mmm," Mulder's beginning to grin, "I don't know. This one... did look pretty good on me."
> 
> "That it definitely did," Walter agrees and they both share a laugh.
> 
> Mulder shifts on his feet again before asking, "Could I borrow one of your shirts? I'm a little cold."
> 
> "You'll be warmer under the blankets but, please," he nods his head at the dresser, "Be my guest."
> 
> He wants to feel Mulder's naked body pressed against him, wants to feel his skin on his skin but the idea of seeing Fox Mulder in one of his shirts... the idea is so appealing, so intimate that he can't refuse him. As Mulder goes to open the drawer, he puts his items on the top and suddenly Walter sits up. Mulder's back is to him as he looks through the drawer.
> 
> "Wait, Fox."
> 
> Mulder turns his head. Walter licks his lips and makes another short nod to the curl of white left at the foot of the bed.
> 
> "Will you... put them back on for me?" Walter asks. Mulder's eyes follow to the panties and the request seems to surprise him. After a heartbeat, he smiles and goes to them.
> 
> Slender legs step into them and he glides them up over his calves and over his thighs. Carefully, he tucks himself into the fabric and Walter watches. When he's done, there's just one more request.
> 
> "Turn around," Walter asks, fixing himself on the pillows examining Mulder with a appreciative eye. If the dress looked good on him, this looks even better. The white lace hugs his ass, riding up along the swell of his skin in way that makes it looks like it belongs there. Walter's staring at the perfect, smooth curve and he lets out a sigh. His mind drives to wondering what Mulder wears under his suits when he's in his office or down in the basement, rummaging through files. Probably boxer briefs, he knows, but he's willing to let himself fantasize tonight. Mulder looks over his shoulder at Walter, curious to see the man's reaction.
> 
> Mulder smiles when Walter shakes his head and sighs, "You've got a great ass."
> 
> This makes Mulder drop his head forward and laugh with a bashfulness that still hasn't dissipated. It's so... All Walter knows if he wants him in beside him, in his bed, and he tells just that, "Come on. You'll be warmer over here."
> 
> Mulder's fingers slide between his hips and the panties but he stops himself, looking back at Walter, "Do you want me to leave them on?"
> 
> A moment of silence and Walter admits, "I wouldn't complain."
> 
> Mulder smiles again and goes to the dresser to find a shirt. He ends up pulling out one of Walter's t-shirts and slips it on over his head. It's too big but Walter doesn't know if he likes it even more than the dress. His long, slender legs bring Mulder over to the bed, where he climbs up to rest on his knees besides Walter. The shirt just covers him and for a moment, kneeling there looking at Walter, Mulder seems almost childlike. Walter feels that undefinable feeling in his chest again looking at him.
> 
> They watch each other, a thousand and one thoughts going through their heads at the same time. It's Mulder who finally speaks.
> 
> "Sir, I--"
> 
> The way Mulder says 'sir' sends shivers up Walter's spine but he corrects him, "Walter, Fox. Call me Walter."
> 
> "I'm sorry," Mulder laughs at himself, shaking his head, "I guess if there was ever a time I'd be justified in doing so, it'd be now, huh? I just wanted to say..."
> 
> He trails off and Walter's head tilts, waiting. After a second, his big hand reaches out to cover Mulder's, stroking the back of it with his thumb. This helps Mulder, he can see, who glances at him.
> 
> "I just wanted to say," his mouth turns up into a small smile, "That you're a gentleman. And, well... I don't think I could ever tell you how... how wonderful you've made me feel tonight."
> 
> Walter can think of a few times that night he was anything but a gentleman. But more importantly, Walter wants to tell him he knows the feeling. He wants to tell him that it's Mulder that should be thanked. He's made Walter remember something he thought he'd lost: desire, masculine, compassion. Something stops him though. Maybe it's just too much for Walter to admit to. Mulder's always been sensitive, he knows, always been a feelings-person. There's so much left unsaid, so much that is uncertain that Walter can't expose that part of himself right now. Instead, he tugs Mulder's hand. Mulder, getting the hint, crawls closer and touches his lips to Walter's and they share a kiss.
> 
> The each get comfortable and Walter helps Mulder slide his legs under the covers and pulls him close. It's a joy when Mulder lays his cheek on Walter's chest, his hand lazily curling and playing in his chest hair. Walter's arm is around him, keeping him close. Burying his nose in Mulder's hair, he inhales the smell of him and it's sex and perfume... and something uniquely Fox Mulder. And Walter.
> 
> "Is is true what you said to me? Or is Marty more of a party girl then she let on?"
> 
> He feels Mulder chuckle against him and he turns to rest his chin on Walter's skin, hooded eyes gazing at him. He smiles but there's something sad in it, "It's true. I don't... it's not very safe to expose myself like that. It was foolish to even do it tonight. If someone at the bureau found out or... others... it could hinder my work. It's why..."
> 
> Mulder licks his lips and sorrow flashes across his face. Walter knows what he's going to say but he can't stop it because he's not sure he can deny it. Mulder finishes, stroking Walter's chest, "It's why we can never do this again. I'm already a joke, Walter, adding a pair of fishnets to Spooky Mulder probably won't hurt my reputation too much at this point but you? I can't help them ruin you and they will. They've tried so many times before. You're the last line of defense, the last good man in the world of crooks. Men like you have to stay in the bureau or else it'd be nothing but pawns."
> 
> His soft words have taken on a steadfast conviction and Walter finds he feels almost inspired by them... He's not sure he agrees, he's not sure he's nearly as good as Fox Mulder believes he is but he finds he wants to be. He wants to live up to whatever Mulder sees in him. Walter strokes his hair, his back.
> 
> "I don't like knowing you have to hide. That you can't be yourself," he finds himself saying. He's not sure why. It's true, yes, but... his mind tells him Mulder's right. Logically, they can't do this again but his heart, his soul, longs to give Mulder a place to be free.
> 
> "I am myself," Mulder smiles, kissing Walter's chest to reassure him, "I am. Marty is just... she's just one part of me. Fox Mulder is too. And even when I'm not in heels, she's still there. I know that."
> 
> "God, you look great in those heels."
> 
> Mulder laughs and leans up to kiss Walter again before resuming his place. Mulder closes his green eyes and snuggles in closer, "Turn off the light, Walter. If the shadow men are onto us, then at least let's just enjoy the night. And there's no where I'd rather be then right here."
> 
> "I don't want you anywhere else," Walter says and with a final kiss on the top of Mulder's head, feeling his soft hair against his lips, he leans over to get the light. They lay together in darkness each silently hoping the dawn will never come.


End file.
